by Ember Pierce
* * *
Despite the fact that Bonny was still worried about Kristian and his situation, her heart had softened a little from talking to her mother-in-law. Being part of a family would make her better, and that meant that she had to give a little of herself.
* * *
This was the kind of talk that Bonny had always wanted to have with her mother, but had often had to have with her sisters and brothers. She was surprised how good she felt at the moment.
* * *
Blowing her nose one more time, Bonny stood and went into the house to gather their washing. This was the first thing that she had wanted to do for Kristian in two days.
* * *
That made her feel pretty good, like there was hope for them yet. She would do this for him, even though it was trivial in the grand scheme of things.
* * *
And, while she worked, she would let her mind drift to happier places.
26
Kristian smoked a cigarette at the small fire in the Hamelow Mountains, a small group of ridges cutting across northern Wyoming.
* * *
He had a kettle of coffee on the fire, but he only had jerky to eat. That was okay, because he wasn’t really hungry.
* * *
He pulled his thick winter coat around him. A fresh and powerful breeze of cold air had swept down on the state.
* * *
If one was on the run, the Hamelow Mountains would be the ideal place to find refuge until spring. Not many people traveled there, even in the good weather, and most people did not consider winter in Wyoming to be good weather.
* * *
He sipped the coffee, looking around at the hard landscape. It didn’t look hard to him this night, nor did it feel cool.
* * *
It seemed he had been doing a year of running from one thing or another. After Graves got his fiscal hooks in him, he was on the run from Graves and, to be truthful, on the run from himself, waking up in Rhonda’s second rate, run-down room.
* * *
How did he ever let him get himself in such a situation? Probably a lot of men had asked themselves such a question. The answer a lot of them had was in the cemetery.
* * *
But he was through with running. Now, he was pursuing. He was the hunter, and he was chasing a killer.
* * *
But his prey promised to give him a new life—money enough to pay off Graves, and money enough to start Bonny and him with a sound financial base.
* * *
He was close to freedom. He and Bonny had gone a long way to settling their differences. He felt a closeness with her that he had never felt before.
* * *
He knew he was in love with her, and he could sense she was growing in love with him. He had not lied to her. She knew that now.
* * *
That had been cleared up. Now, he had to clear up other things from his past.
* * *
He flipped his cigarette into the light snow and saw if sizzle out. Smith was up here. He would head for the ugly, scaly hill country, where there were plenty of places to hide.
* * *
But not from him. Kristian knew these mountains, and the plains and the hills and the trees and the ponds. No one could escape him. Not when he got his bearings back.
* * *
He had a hunch he knew exactly where the outlaw was. He just be patient, knock him out with his pistol, and slap the cuffs on him and cart him back the Red Desert over his saddle.
* * *
Then he could watch the sheriff lock him in the town jail, collect his money, and give a big smile walking out.
* * *
He picked up the coffee pot and poured another cup. He was now the type of husband Bonny deserved. A man who wouldn’t owe another man a cent, not from now on.
* * *
A man who didn’t plan on ever taking up drinking again. A man who would be a good and loving father to the children he and Bonny planned on having.
* * *
And he would carry on not just his legacy, but the legacy of his brother. His brother would not be forgotten in their house, but not immortalized, either.
* * *
He would be honored as a good, fine man who had ample virtues and a kind heart. His children would hear of his brother’s kindness and courage.
* * *
The silver quarter-moon stood almost directly overhead. It looked like a cold gray vertical smile, looking amused at the men and women below it.
* * *
The men and women who tried to fool others occasionally. What did the scriptures say about that? Vanities upon vanities upon vanities. All would vanish.
* * *
Except love. The love that he and Bonny had.
* * *
He had begun to have second thoughts about his alleged friend, Graves O’hara. Now that he was sober and thinking clearly, he had questions for Graves, questions he wondered if Graves had any good answers for.
* * *
Some of his behavior was a bit mystifying. A few things did not add up with Mr. O’hara.
* * *
But there would be time enough to ask those questions when he returned with his target, a man worth close to one thousand dollars.
* * *
There may be a few things that he and Bonny would need to work out but, now, there were just details—not life or death issues, or marriage and divorce issues.
* * *
They were minor matters that could be easily solved. Easily solved between two people who loved one another.
* * *
He had compared Bonny once to a dog who had been mistreated, and he thought the analogy was basically true. In her house back in the east, there was little chance for her true personality to come to the surface.
* * *
She was always reacting, never acting. Always wanting to sit in what would be a treasured ‘library’ room and read, but never getting to open the pages of a book because of all the demands on her time, and what seemed to be callous treatment from her parents.
* * *
She had plenty of brothers and sisters, but that wasn’t the problem, not really. In the West, husbands and wives had large families but in most the element that held together was their love for another.
* * *
They were a family, and the familial love and values held them together. They were not eight or nine or ten strangers living together in the same house.
* * *
That was the element missing in Bonny’s childhood home. He and Bonny would have the first type of house—a house of love and respect.
* * *
He ran his hand down to his holster and felt the coldness of his pistol. If he was on the run and needed a place to stay out of sight, he headed for the Kern Triangle of the mountain range.
* * *
It was named for a Mr. Kern, although it has been forgotten exactly why it had been. But it was heavily wooded and had many places to hide.
* * *
A fugitive could find many places to keep out of sight. But not from skilled hunters. He hoped the outlaw would surrender peacefully.
* * *
He had a legal, and from his perspective, moral right to shoot the outlaw if necessary. The man was a murderer and should face justice.
* * *
Whether it was from a gun or a rope was almost immaterial. Either way, justice would be done.
* * *
He pulled the pistol out and moved it back and forth. It had been a while since he had pulled the gun, even for practicing.
* * *
He and his brother had practiced many times and both had become good shots.
* * *
He sighed. He really wanted to see Bonny. There were so many things they didn’t know yet about one another. But they had a lifetime to find out.
* * *
He slid the gun back into the holster. If he got just a bit lucky, it w
ouldn’t stay there for long.
* * *
Bonny found the building that Graves kept his office in, and looked up at the façade. She’d never been in it before.
* * *
In fact, she figured few women had ever opened the door and entered, but this was a far cry better than meeting in the saloon. That would have caused a scandal.
* * *
She definitely wanted to talk to Mr. O’hara. Even so, she had to take a few deep breaths before putting her hand on the door knob.
* * *
When she stepped inside, a bell chimed over the door, much as it did at the general store.
* * *
There was a man sitting at a desk in a small lobby area. He had on a suit, which struck Bonny as odd since no one in the area ever wore a suit.
* * *
The man was slight and wore his thinning hair slicked back with pomade. He looked like he belonged in a city out East, or at least that was what came to her mind.
* * *
“What can I help you with?” the man at the desk asked. He was obviously surprised to see a woman in the room, but he didn’t comment on it.
* * *
He smiled a benign, pleasant smile, but she could see a hint of malice in the man’s eyes. For a man who was supposed to be somewhat of an upstanding member of the community, he didn’t associate with the best people.
* * *
Bonny cleared her throat and said, “I have some business with Mr. O’hara.”
* * *
“No, you don’t. Women don’t come into this office. It’s not proper.”
* * *
Bonny almost let loose a snort of laughter. “For a man to complain about propriety in this office is somewhat amusing.
* * *
“Maybe that’s why Mr. O’hara keeps you around—for amusement. When I first saw you, I didn’t think you could be that funny a man. Maybe I was wrong.”
* * *
The man eyed her in silence for so long Bonny could feel sweat beading on his upper brow. He did not want to yell or scream at her.
* * *
Well, he clearly did, but he likely didn’t think it would be a wise course of action. But he was obviously angry at her presence, at her words and at her tone of voice.
* * *
Finally, the man nodded, as if decided he would let O’hara take care of her.
* * *
“Go straight through the door. Mr. O’hara will see you.”
* * *
As she skirted around the desk toward the door the man had indicated, she caught sight of the butt end of a pistol sticking out from a desk drawer. In usual times, she would have shuddered.
* * *
Graves had spoken of brutality with Kristian, and he clearly had meant it. But this was not a day for shuddering.
* * *
She had changed a great deal in the short time she had been in the West. It was a good change, and she wasn’t going back now. She was going forward.
* * *
She gave a quick knock on the door before she stepped into the office. Graves looked up from whatever he had been working on, his expression stormy.
* * *
In previous times, her mood might have sank immediately. But not today.
* * *
Perhaps, on other days, she would have asked for leniency due to the loans her husband had with O’hara. But not today.
* * *
“Bonny Downing,” Graves said in an even tone. “It is a pleasure to meet you, since your husband is one of my clients.
* * *
“I had heard he had found a mail-order bride from the East. I see he found a very good one. And a feisty one, too.
* * *
“I don’t see many women in this office. I can tell something about your character simply by your coming in here.” He leaned back in his chair and showed a malicious smile.
* * *
One tooth had been pulled, and there was a gap on the left side of his jaw. O’hara opened his desk and took out a cigar.
* * *
He stuck it in his mouth and bit down on the tobacco. “Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners? Please, sit down. I’d like to welcome you to the town.”
* * *
Bonny eased into a chair. She noticed the slight mocking tone in his voice.
* * *
“Thank you.” She glanced quickly around his office. “The office is very nice, Mr. O’hara. But I don’t see a sign telling what you do? You have a specific business?”
* * *
“I dabble in a number of things. I have several business interests. You have to keep alert to all types of business activities and you have to plan ahead.
* * *
“That’s the key to business opportunities—you have to plan ahead. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a backcountry town such as Red Desert. I prefer cities.
* * *
“I like San Francisco. I’ve been there three times and love it. I plan to move there shortly and live in the city by the bay.”
* * *
“And would that be in one ot the streets there by the Pacific, or in one of the prisons?”
* * *
He was lighting his cigar, but he looked up with his dark eyes and cast a dark glance at her. He lowered his voice, and it took on a dangerous tone.
* * *
“Now, why would you say a thing like that, especially to a man who has loaned so much money to your husband?
* * *
“And picked him off the street when he had slipped down when drunk? Or maybe he didn’t tell you that. Maybe he wanted to keep that part of his life secret.”
* * *
“Oh, I know about it. It’s such a shame when a fine and good man loses so much to liquor.”
* * *
O’hara nodded but said nothing. His eyes stared at the women who sat before his desk. The lines in his cheeks seemed to have stiffened.
* * *
“Yes, but it happens,” he said.
* * *
“True, but it’s so sad. She leaned back and crossed her legs.
* * *
“You know, I haven’t had a chance to ask many people, but I’ve asked a few—and do you know what they told me?”
* * *
“How nice a town Red Desert is?”
* * *
“No, they told me the Kristian I met when I first came out was somewhat different from what he was before he began drinking. Living out there back east with so many siblings, you could say I led something of a sheltered life.
* * *
“But we did have alcoholics in the neighborhood, so we did see what drink will do to people. You have that here too, of course.
* * *
“You can see people change because of their drinking. They become different people.”
* * *
O’hara took a deep puff of his cigar. Smoke sailed over his desk and he stuck the cigar back in his mouth. “Do you have a point to this story?
* * *
“I’ve seen drunks all my life. I don’t need to hear a lecture on them.
* * *
“Besides, I’m sure you have something better to do with your time than sit with me discussing alcoholics. So don’t let me keep you.”
* * *
Bonny showed a sweet smile. “Oh, you’re not. But I am getting to the point. Just wanted to make sure you’re following.”
* * *
He pulled his cigar out of his mouth and nodded. His voice hardened. “I think I’m following you.”
* * *
“Oh, good. You know, the thing that stuck in my mind is, if Graves O’hara is such a good friend to Kristian, I mean, lending him money for both liquor and gambling—who lends money to a drunk who keeps losing money?
